


Close Your Eyes (We’ll be Alright)

by 9091fxh, Hornet394



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bondage, Breathplay, Established Polygamy, Fisting, M/M, Mentions of public sex, Multi, OT12 - Freeform, Orgasm Delay, Pet Play, Praise Kink, Pregnancy/Breeding kink, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Spitroasting, Subspace, Voyeurism, foodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:06:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7773355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9091fxh/pseuds/9091fxh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hornet394/pseuds/Hornet394
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yixing can always trust his brothers to take care of him, to take him apart piece by piece and fix him up the right way. Alternatively, the different ways Zhang Yixing can be taken care of in bed (and other places).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Your Eyes (We’ll be Alright)

**Author's Note:**

> So... this is possibly the filthiest thing I’ve written in a long while. Still, not as smutty as I originally intended to be (oops), but this is how it goes... after all, Yixing needs to learn how to let others control him, eh? That boy needs all the love and care he can get. Not quite sure if this is the “lose control” the prompter was looking for but hey you mentioned toys, so... Hopefully you like it regardless!! (I have a feeling a stepped on a lot of people’s limits with those warning tags.)

**Prompt:** #28  
**Title:** Close Your Eyes (We’ll be Alright)  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Pairing** OT12  
**Length:** 12,584 words  
**Summary:** Yixing can always trust his brothers to take care of him, to take him apart piece by piece and fix him up the right way. Alternatively, the different ways Zhang Yixing can be taken care of in bed (and other places).  
**Tags:** ot12, established polygamy, toys/bondage, breathplay, subspace, orgasm delay, fisting, rough sex, voyeurism, foodplay, praise kink, petplay, spitroasting, pregnancy/breeding kink, mentions of public sex

 

Yixing leans back against the large mirrors of the room, yanking his shirt up to wipe away his sweat brutally. “Great job today, guys,” Junmyeon says to the room, panting heavily as he packed his bag, “Let’s head back and get some rest.”

Answering grunts come up around the room but Yixing can only muster up a weak smile. “You feeling alright, Xing?” Luhan asks, slinging his arm around Yixing’s shoulders as they head towards the door. It’s an errant question, but enough to attract Yifan’s attention and he joins the two of them. “You’re so tense, Yixing,” He frowns, pinching Yixing’s cheek, “Luckily we have free days coming up.”

“We do?” Yixing perks up. They’re not wrong though, about him being tense. He’s stretched tight like an elastic band, in which a single touch would be capable of making him collapse onto the ground. It’s much harder trying to hold himself up in a foreign land, without his family around him, talking a language he didn’t feel for.

“Eleven days,” Jongdae piped up from ahead of them, “Eleven days of freedom!” Yixing giggles along when Luhan smacks the back of Jongdae’s head, but something in his voice must have come out as even Jongdae gives him a concerned look.

“You’re too strung up,” Yifan repeats when the twelve of them settled into the living room of their dormitory. This time there is more people around to take note of Yifan’s words, and Yixing blushes slightly under the scrutinization. “What’s this about?” Kyungsoo frowns, eyes raking up and down Yixing. “It’s nothing,” Yixing insists, “The hyungs just insist on making a fuss about nothing.”

Chanyeol’s large hand comes on his shoulder, making the Chinese man jump slightly. “But it’s true,” Chanyeol says sadly, big eyes wide and adorable, “You are really stressed out.” Baekhyun sidles up from the other side and pushes Yixing towards the couch, before climbing straight into Yixing’s lap to cuddle.

“Can you help?” He blurts out without thinking. Tao and Sehun stops in their tracks during their trek to the bathroom. “Help how?” Jongin asks deviously, slinging his long legs over Junmyeon’s lap. “There’s only one way we truly know how to help,” Even Minseok is grinning too, sharing an all-knowing look with Luhan.

The red that envelops Yixing’s face is overwhelming and he buries his face in his hands. “That was a stupid idea,” He stutters out, “Forget it.”

Soft hands wrenched his own away. “Let us take care of you, hyung,” Baekhyun murmurs. Yixing bites his lip nervously. He’s not sure he can do this. “We have eleven days off,” Junmyeon says, “No practicing at all, okay? Just relax.”

“We’ll take great care of you,” Chanyeol joins him on the couch, “What do you want us to do?”

Yixing looks around and everyone is looking back at him anticipatorily. Take my control away from me, he murmurs shakily, hold me, and Baekhyun molds himself around Yixing comfortingly.

Yifan’s large hand cards through his hair and Luhan coaxes Yixing back into their room. He’s hammered out from the whole day of training and he falls asleep quickly, while Luhan goes back to the living room.

The next day starts without any melodrama. Yixing sleeps in and pads out of the bedroom still yawning. Minseok pushes him coffee and a chorus of good mornings come up. It’s like the conversation last night never took place, if not for the exchanged glances between the members. Yixing becomes hyperaware of every touch and every smile, but nothing happens.

Gradually he begins to relax and joins the younger members in rounds of mario kart, before Luhan leaps in and makes Yixing come into their room to watch some sort of Chinese soap opera.

Luhan doesn’t like soap opera.

But Luhan does take Yixing by surprise. Yixing really wasn’t expecting Luhan to do anything about... Whatever Yixing had gotten himself into, seeing as Minseok isn’t around either. It’s slightly humiliating really. It’s their room, Yixing’s stuff is propped against the walls, his sheets still rumpled. There’s drool on his pillow. 

It makes sense, however. Lu-ge has taken care of him ever since they’ve met, and it is no wonder that Luhan is the first to do so here.

“Come here,” He beckons, patting the bed with a hand. Yixing shuffles over hesitantly. 

They settle beneath Luhan’s sheets and Yixing seeks consolation in the familiarity, exchanging chaste, playful kisses and giggled breaths. He lets Luhan press him against the mattress, and he pulls Luhan’s head down by the neck when the older man deepens the kiss, biting on the generous swell of Yixing’s bottom lip.

He slips a thigh between Luhan’s legs and soon the other man is rutting against it fervently, one hand placed next to his head as Luhan devours him with his mouth, the other ruthlessly pressing down against the bulge in Yixing’s pants. When they part, a trail of saliva still connects both of their mouths filthily, Yixing’s pupils blown wide and his lips swollen, a violent red flush on his pale skin.

Strong hands suddenly take his arms and pulls it above his head, and before Yixing can react Luhan has slapped cuffs on both his limbs, locking them against the bedpost. “Do you trust me?” Luhan asks in Chinese when Yixing protests weakly, tugging slightly on the leather. “Yes,” Yixing replies breathily, forcing his limbs to relax. Luhan peppers butterfly kisses along his chest as he gently slides the shirt off Yixing’s shoulders, bunching it up at the cuffs, and Yixing shivers as the older man rolls his erect nipples with a finger, tugging at them lightly and making him arch up against the bed. 

“Trust me, Xing,” Luhan repeats breathily as he pulls Yixing’s pants and boxers off, “Lu-ge has always taken good care of you, haven’t I?” Cold lube touches Yixing’s entrance, and he forces himself to relax as Luhan’s finger sinks into him. Luhan takes his time, gently probing, exploring. His finger catches briefly against his prostate but Luhan quickly withdraws from it, teasing Yixing as he bites into his bottom lip to stop himself from begging.

“We have the whole day,” Luhan purrs deviously, sinking in a second finger to scissor Yixing apart, taking great pains to avoid his prostate. Yixing spies the slim black vibrator lying in Luhan’s lap, and he splutters in alarm.

“Nothing we haven’t tried before,” Luhan arches an eyebrow, and Yixing wilts in defeat. Luhan leans forward and kisses him, assaulting his mouth, so Yixing doesn’t notice when Luhan puts the cock ring on him.

“Please don’t,” He whines out, legs twitching slightly at the sensation of the offending object, and Luhan looks down at him with a smirk. “It’s going to be fun,” He says, and he coats the vibrator with lube, slowly sinking it into Yixing’s entrance.

Luhan starts it up before Yixing has the time to properly adjust to it, too forceful, in all the wrong places. Then Luhan leans forward and swallows Yixing’s cock at one go, bright hazel eyes staring straight at Yixing, as if challenging him, and the keening wail that rips out of Yixing does take the edge off the sudden intrusion, but the thought of the cock ring just makes him all the more frustrated.

Then the vibrator presses directly onto the swollen flesh of his prostate, and soon tears are streaming down Yixing’s face as he strains against the cock ring, the most sensitive part of his body placed under constant stimulation.

“Beg,” Luhan purrs, releasing Yixing’s cock with an obscene pop, “Beg for it, Xingxing.”

It opens up a floodgate as a torrent of pleads and praises pour from Yixing’s mouth, in Chinese, in korean, he can’t really tell. All he knows is that Luhan is cooing at him and calling him a good boy, but still the pressure keeps up until all he can do is repeat Luhan’s name over and over and over again, writhing against the cuffs, scrunching up the bedsheets, tears falling from his tightly closed eyelids as waves and waves of pleasure rush through his entire body.

“That’s right,” Luhan breathes against his ears, disembodied and far away, “That’s right.”

Then Yixing’s cock is released from its confines and his cum splashes almost brutally against Luhan’s fingers, dripping down the still semi-erect organ and painting his own torso with white. Luhan’s fingers rest against Yixing’s face as the older man licks his own fingers clean, then bend down seductively to clean the rest of Yixing’s body.

The wetness of Luhan’s tongue against his cock has Yixing’s legs twitching involuntarily. “Please, no more, Lu-ge, please,” He begs, but Luhan only smirks at him as he sits back up to take off his own clothes. “Then what about my cock?” Luhan asks, slipping off his boxers. His manhood is already engorged and swollen, the tip moist with precum, straining upwards. Yixing swallows, and Luhan’s eyes drop to Yixing’s mouth.

“Not today,” Luhan says, his breathing a bit unsteady, “I promised not to tire you out this quickly.”

Luhan smears lube all over Yixing’s inner thighs, and he lifts them up together to create a tight spot for himself to fuck into.

Drained, Yixing can only lie there and moan quietly as Luhan’s cock fucks into the tight space between his thighs, Luhan’s mouth hanging open as he spills white over Yixing’s crotch.

His hands are released and they fall naturally onto Luhan’s shoulders, and his gege kisses him thoroughly before rolling off him, lifting him up bridal style to lay him back on the clean sheets of his own bed. He leaves the room briefly as Yixing catches his breath on the bed, thighs still trembling with the recollection of Luhan using them. Luhan returns with a wet towel and he wipes away the stains, making Yixing shiver as the cool fabric touches his overheated skin. 

He falls asleep with Luhan rubbing circles on his skin.

//

Junmyeon rarely fucks anyone. He usually offers himself up for destressing purposes, and Yixing knows he enjoys it as much as the other members. Yixing’s almost apologetic to add this onto Junmyeon’s ledger, and he tells him as such when Junmyeon accosts him in the kitchen after dinner.

He’s regretting it when he’s bent over the kitchen counter, Junmyeon leaving hand-shaped bruises on his hips, pounding into him without abandon. His thighs and chest are already covered with bruises and bites, some leftover trophies of Luhan, more as new additions from Junmyeon. The other members are a door away, in the living room watching a movie, but Junmyeon has dragged his head up by the hair, stretching his whole body taut as his choked cries resonate around him, unable to hold them back.

His throat is parched from earlier, where Junmyeon had pinned him in place with an iron grip over his neck and fucked his mouth, thick cock pistoning inside him and making him choke on it, eyes watering up. Junmyeon merely wipes them away and tells him how good he looks on his cock, how good Yixing’s lips looks wrapped around the thick member, eyes wide and unresisting.

The room is filled with the lewd sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and Yixing’s choked screams, Junmyeon’s praises but a muttered litany above him. The hand not in his hair slides up his burning flesh, leaving its place on his hip to skirt up his spine, making Yixing arch like a cat as he sobs to push back against Junmyeon’s unforgiving thrusts.

Finally the hand curls around Yixing’s neck to settle on his throat, and with the next thrust Junmyeon squeezes. 

Oxygen rushes out of Yixing’s brain as his lungs work overtime to compensate. His eyes roll back into his head and his mouth is caught open in a silent scream, saliva spilling onto the kitchen counter unbiddingly. Junmyeon releases after an eternity, and Yixing retches, taking huge gulps of air against the vice like imprint of Junmyeon’s gentle fingers. 

Junmyeon fucks him through it steadily, unrelenting pressure of his cock carving out a space inside Yixing just for Junmyeon. He can feel Junmyeon’s pulse beating against his throat like an orchestral piece, Bach, Tchaikovsky, a mixture of both.

“Ready?” Junmyeon murmurs huskily in his ear. Yixing can only let out a broken sob before Junmyeon’s squeezing him again, his vision tunneling and tunneling until the kitchen fades away and everything fades away and _him_ fades away until all that’s left is Junmyeon’s hands, Junmyeon’s grip, Junmyeon’s cock, Junmyeon protecting him, holding him up.

He cums all over the kitchen counter when Junmyeon releases him a third time, his face red with exertion and tears pouring down his face. Junmyeon holds him up through all of it, never speeding up, until his thrusts turn from borderline painful to abusing Yixing’s oversensitive nerves.

Yixing cries and begs out for Junmyeon to stop, but the clenching of his hole says otherwise. “You can come for me again, can’t you?” Junmyeon challenges, never letting Yixing’s hair go but moving the hand on his throat down to his ass, suddenly delivering a resounding smack that makes Yixing wail even louder and writhe beneath Junmyeon’s body.

Junmyeon gropes the reddened flesh as his thrusts begin to taper off, but Yixing can already feel the bruises forming from where Junmyeon’s hip bones had smashed into the round globes of his ass repeatedly, let alone the older man kneading them like dough as Yixing chokes on his own saliva in between moans.

Finally Junmyeon lets Yixing’s hair go, and he all but slumps against the cool surface of the counter as Junmyeon’s still hard and throbbing length pulls out from him. His ass feels like it’s on fire.

Without a warning Junmyeon’s cool hands are on him again, yanking the Chinese man backwards and straight into Junmyeon’s lap on one of the chairs, facing the Korean. He still looks calm and collected, hair artfully styled without a piece out of place. Yixing didn’t get to leave any marks on him, and he’s barely sweating. Yixing, on the other hand, looks absolutely _wrecked_. He can feel blood rushing through his whole body and he’s panting like he’s run a marathon. Sweat pours down his face in rivulets and his hair is tousled all over the place. There are multiple tear tracks running down his face.

Then Junmyeon smirks, and Yixing is soon bouncing in his lap simply from the other man’s hands, Junmyeon’s cock spearing him apart as he screams loud enough to wake the neighbours. They don’t have any neighbours.

With this angle he feels so _full_ , Junmyeon’s cock barging its way inside, battering against his prostate with every hard thrust. Yixing is convinced he’s bruised even inside his ass, but right now all he can do is moan loudly into Junmyeon’s shoulder with his arms crossed loosely around the older’s neck, his cock brushing precum along Junmyeon’s abs with every movement.

He’s completely at Junmyeon’s mercy, held up merely by Junmyeon’s firm grip and his body, boneless and pliant like a ragdoll, a puppet with his strings cut. “You look absolutely gorgeous,” Junmyeon breathes in reverence, even as he brutally slams Yixing down onto his cock.

Junmyeon’s cum is a splash of cool dew, a stark contrast to the throbbing heat within Yixing, but his sob of relief quickly turns to broken begging as his own cock is still hard and leaking, but he doesn’t have the energy to move on his own. Junmyeon’s hands rest lightly on his hips, rubbing soothing circles on the bruised skin as Yixing warms his cock, completely draped over the older man with tears leaking out of his eyes.

Junmyeon stands up, then, arms secured around Yixing’s middle and back tightly, and he walks them back to Yixing’s room. The corridor is oddly silent. The movie must be over.

With every step Yixing is bounced up and down Junmyeon’s flaccid cock, but in his weakened state he can only mewl as his own erection leaks all over Junmyeon’s flesh, and as soon as his back hits the mattress, he starts begging again, soft, lilted pleading mixed with reverent phrases. 

“Junmian-ge,” he breathes out wantonly, his face drenched with tears, “Junmian-ge, I beg you,” he chokes out in Chinese. 

He knows Junmyeon doesn’t understand it, but he can’t actually think of anything else right now. He needs this, he needed it so bad, and Junmyeon is the only one who can give it to him right now.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” Junmyeon finally says, and Yixing blacks out from the force of his orgasm, the last thing he sees through lidded eyes being Junmyeon’s warm, sharp gaze.

//

“Xingxing-ge!” Jongdae greets enthusiastically as Yixing emerges from his room. It’s late in the morning, but Yixing is not entirely awake. It had been impossibly hard to fall asleep as the phantom sensations of Junmyeon’s fingers lingered on his throat, dangerous and seductive. 

The younger man flits around and brings Yixing breakfast, which he thanks Jongdae for and digs in without preamble. He’s still sore from yesterday, so he abandons the chair and sits directly on the floor, kneeling to save his ass the torture. Jongdae’s cat-like eyes flashes dangerously and Yixing pauses in his eating. “Junmyeon hyung was really rough last night, wasn’t he?” Jongdae asked, plopping down cross-legged in front of Yixing.

Yixing thinks the question is pointless, for the red marks are still very apparent on his pale skin, which Jongdae cannot tear his eyes from. He indulges the question, however, and Jongdae repays him with a radiant smile that makes Yixing’s heart flutter pleasantly.

They share the food, little bites here and there until both of them are sprawled on the floor, legs tangled together. Jongin ambles in sleepily and tells them “get off the floor, it’s dirty”, sending them into a fit of giggles that doesn’t stop, until Yixing is clutching his stomach from laughing too hard and Baekhyun is yelling for Jongdae to shut up.

“Let’s go to my room,” Jongdae stage-whispers, tugging Yixing up by the hand like a child in a candy store. 

Jongdae jumps straight to the point and strips Yixing immediately, uncaring of his resisting hands. Yixing doesn’t want to get fucked again, not today, or his ass will really get torn apart, and he says as much.

“Shhh,” Jongdae says, straddling Yixing on the bed, “You look like you were mauled by a bear.” Yixing tells Dae he wants to put his clothes back on, but the younger man is busy trailing his fingers over all the marks and bruises Junmyeon had left on him.

“Do you not want me?” Jongdae asks with the face of a kicked puppy when Yixing repeats his wish to get dressed, leaving the older man spluttering as Jongdae sullenly sits back up, his ass brushing Yixing’s crotch area lightly.

“It’s not like that, Jongdae-ah,” Yixing says frantically when Jongdae juts his bottom lip out, and he must have said exactly what the younger man wanted to hear, for Jongdae quickly brightens up and says, “Then you do want me, Yixing hyung!”

Jongdae has thrown his clothes off before Yixing can continue to protest, leaning over to grab lube from the headboard. “I’ll even put on a little show for you,” Jongdae breathes out seductively, and Yixing’s words die in his throat as Jongdae sinks one of his fingers inside himself.

He reaches his hands up to flick Jongdae’s nipples, roll them into hard, hard nubs and tug at them until Jongdae is throwing his head left to right sobbing, but Yixing’s gaze never leaves the way Jongdae’s fingers breach his hole.

The rim sucks in the digit greedily, and Yixing wraps his hands around Jongdae’s thighs and waist to steady him as Jongdae makes shallow thrusts, his other hand splayed above Yixing’s heart for balance.

“Look at me, Yixing hyung,” Jongdae gasps out as he puts in a second finger, scissoring his hole apart. Fluid cling to the two digits, rolling down to his wrist and onto the mattress.

“Add one more, Jongdae-yah,” Yixing breathes out, “Let me see you.”

And Jongdae sobs while he does it, obediently, crouched over Yixing, entire body trembling with three fingers thrusting in and out of himself, filthy sounds resonating around the room before Jongdae cries out that he can’t hold it in anymore, planting both lubricant-covered hands on Yixing’s chest as he lowers himself down on Yixing’s cock.

This isn’t Jongdae’s first rodeo, isn’t Yixing’s first time enjoying his dongsaeng’s body, but everytime he fucks Jongdae, everytime anyone fucks Jongdae he’s always as tight as any virgin, no matter how many cocks he has had in his ass, no matter how many of them have passed him around.

Overwhelming warmth envelops Yixing’s cock, squeezing the organ pleasurably and he struggles to just buck up, letting Jongdae adjust to his girth.

“Fuck me, Yixing hyung,” Jongdae breathes bonelessly. 

It’s as if a switch flips inside Yixing, that he bucks up immediately, erratically, feeding off Jongdae’s moans and screams as he bounces the younger man on his cock, gripping his hips tightly.

Yixing doesn’t even have to try to find Jongdae’s prostate - he is that attuned to Jongdae’s body, just as Jongdae is with his. Jongdae’s grip on his neck tightens as he tries to catch up to Yixing’s pace, but Yixing cannot stop. Yixing holds Jongdae up by the hips and simply fucks him single-mindedly, chasing completion blindly in the tight warmth.

“Xingxing-ge,” Jongdae repeats over and over again above the obscene smacks of flesh against flesh, and his hands slide down to trace the lines of Yixing’s chest.

“You’re so good to your hyungs,” Yixing says as he slams his hips up, “So good to me.”

“Anything,” Jongdae sobs, hair falling into his dazed eyes, red marks welling up from where his nails dig into Yixing’s skin.

Yixing flips them over, dragging Jongdae up by the hips and kneeling on the bed so that the back of Jongdae’s thighs rest on Yixing’s shoulders, but his feet dangles in midair as his whole body is bent in half, Yixing’s hands under his ass to support him as Yixing fucks Jongdae into the mattress, chasing his release.

“Harder, hyung, harder,” Jongdae moans out, chocolate eyes in slits from Yixing’s forceful movements. Yixing tries, thinks he succeeds with the way Jongdae’s voice goes an octave higher, until the mushroomed head of his cock brushes against his prostate again and Jongdae screams.

Yixing recalls Luhan’s motions as he slams into Jongdae’s prostate over and over again, but still Jongdae is begging for more, harder, faster, and Yixing complies as best as he can.

He slides a hand down to Jongdae’s cock, repaying his dongsaeng as Jongdae screams for Yixing, cries for Yixing. It’s so easy to become addicted to Jongdae, Yixing is one of the many who can attest to that.

The tight clenching around his cock when Jongdae comes is enough to push Yixing over the edge, and he catches himself before he collapses onto Jongdae with his hands. And they lie like that for a while, heavy breathing mixing with each other as they stare at each other tenderly.

Jongdae’s legs slide back onto the mattress as he leans up to kiss Yixing, a soft press of lips, another, and another. “Thank you, Xingxing-ge,” He purrs, rolling Yixing onto his back, so that Jongdae’s head is pillowed on Yixing’s chest, their legs twined together, “Now go to sleep.”

Yixing closes his eyes, and despite the sweat clinging to both their bodies, the cum splattered onto Yixing and inside Jongdae, it is as if Jongdae’s words are a magical spell, and Yixing is out like a light.

//

Jongin and Sehun gang up on him, but Yixing isn’t that surprised. The maknaes are in his room when he wakes up, idly throwing Luhan’s football between the two of them. Yixing’s roommate is nowhere to be seen. Jongin says something so quickly that Yixing’s sleep-addled brain cannot follow, but he leans into the younger man’s touch anyways when Jongin cups his face. “Wake up, hyung,” Sehun whines, dragging the sheets away from Yixing in a flourish.

“We have a whole day planned out,” Jongin supplemented, throwing Yixing the clothes draped over his chair, “Hurry up.”

They don’t let him comb his hair before rushing out, down to the little alleyways that Korea is famed for, gorging themselves in food that Junmyeon would flinch at. Sometimes the maknaes talk too fast and he can’t follow, or he mispronounces something, but the two just laugh it off and drag him from shop to shop.

They eat lunch in a small corner shop, but when Yixing takes his wallet out Jongin stops him. “Let us be the hyungs today, please?” Jongin says with puppy eyes, “Let us treat you like our maknae.”

Yixing wilts slightly in his seat. Chinese don’t place as much hierarchal emphasis on hyungs and maknaes, but it still seems wrong to have the two of them, three years younger than him, to be taking care of him instead, but before he can protest Jongin is paying and Sehun is confiscating Yixing’s wallet to stop him from treating them to anything.

They go to a cinema, chooses an obscure one with their caps pulled low, and they get their food the way Kyungsoo likes it. Yixing doesn’t quite know why Kyungsoo likes watching movies on his own, but that is also what makes him so special. What makes Sehun and Jongin special, are the obnoxious way they speculate about the movie before it even begins, but they immediately shut up and turn into wide-eyed ducklings as soon as the opening credits begin.

They go grab bubble tea, afterwards, with Jongin grumbling about how they can savour such a sweet drink with Sehun protesting loudly, while Yixing happily sips on his chocolate bubble tea as the two bicker all the way back home.

They reach the door and Yixing pats around for his key, praying that he’s actually remembered to bring it out. “Let your hyungs do it,” Sehun says from behind him, and Yixing freezes up as Jongin wordlessly opens the door. 

Sehun’s hand is shaking when it rests on the small of Yixing’s back, like the way Yixing likes to herd him and Baekhyun around, like the way Sehun teases Luhan some times, but it’s different, not really that.

Yixing still can’t really sit straight, not really, and the maknaes notice, because Jongin undresses him with gentle caution, letting him kneel on the bed instead. “How is your injury?” Jongin breathes out, caressing Yixing’s waist. “What about yours?” Yixing asks in return, half in chastisement, half in interest, and Jongin grimaces in response.

“Yixing,” Sehun speaks up, burrowing his face into Yixing’s hair, “Can you call me hyung?”

Yixing suppresses the urge to coo at Sehun. “Sehun hyung,” He says teasingly, but the dilation of Sehun’s pupils and growing bulge tells him that it was a very good idea. “Sehun hyung,” This time he repeats again with purpose, and Sehun pins him onto the mattress immediately to Jongin’s annoyance.

“We talked about this, Sehun,” Jongin whines, but helps Sehun strip Yixing completely, his clothes flying all over the room as they spread him eagle on the mattress, Yixing’s head pillowed on Jongin’s thighs as Sehun sinks two fingers inside of him mercilessly. “You’re so loose and ready, Yixing,” Sehun rasps out, and Jongin leans over him and puts in two extra fingers, making Yixing moan out loud. Their fingers aren’t awfully thick, nor do they reach in deep but it’s enough to make Yixing feel like a common whore with the way they seemingly toy around with his flesh without much preamble.

“This is how we’re going to do this,” Sehun announces as he deems Yixing ready, “One of us will be fucking your mouth as the other fucks you in the ass. That sounds good?”

Yixing hums noncommittally, but his grin sells him out quickly and they let him go to allow him to turn on all fours. He waits as they do a little rock, paper, scissors, and it’s clear that Sehun has won with the way he almost scrambles to get Yixing’s hips between his grip, cock already poised to penetrate him.

“Patience, hyung,” Yixing moans out, and Sehun slides in with a shocked gasp, as if he himself couldn’t control the movement of his hips. Briefly Yixing entertains the idea of proposing to Luhan to put little Sehun in a cock cage next time, but his train of thought is cut off by Jongin’s cock brushing against his lips.

Sending the younger boy a coy look, Yixing opens his mouth breathily, waiting for Jongin to start thrusting even as Sehun trembles in place, resisting the urge to simply plunder and violate. 

He plays it salaciously as Jongin finally starts moving, gripping Yixing by the hair tightly and tilting his head up so Jongin can move his hips fluidly, and at the same time Sehun starts to fuck him, both of them putting their dancing skills to good use in a come and go movement, fluid and smooth, Jongin’s cock scraping the tender walls of Yixing’s throat as Sehun drags his cock along the walls of Yixing’s hole, Sehun fucking the air out of Yixing as Jongin draws back to give Yixing time to breathe. 

His throat is completely raw as he moans uncontrollably around the flesh in his mouth, tongue bathing Jongin’s cock with as much attention as he can muster, looking up into the younger boy with half-lidded eyes. He’s pinned in place by both Koreans, Jongin’s hands tangled in his hair in an iron grip, Sehun-shaped bruises already forming on his flesh to add on to Junmyeon’s. He’s forced to deepthroat Jongin as Sehun pistons in and out of him relentlessly. It’s endearing, really, listening to the words pouring from both of their mouths.

Sehun is ranting about how tight Yixing’s ass is, how much he loves fucking his hyung, how much he loves Yixing, while Jongin is incoherent with the way he fucks Yixing’s mouth rapidly, dropping words as to how hot it feels, how amazing it is to share Yixing with Sehun, how hot it is watching Sehun fuck Yixing, and doesn't that make Yixing moan louder? To know his dongsaengs love him, care about him, that someone like him can be attractive to someone like them, too.

The musky scent of Jongin’s masculinity swamps him as his nose is directly pressed into the hair at the base of Jongin’s cock, Jongin pinning him in place as he spills white, milky semen straight down his throat. 

Jongin stills against Yixing for a while, before backing off, sated. “You’re so nice all the time,” He says as Sehun starts to really pound into Yixing, making him bury his face in his arm, muffling his moans.

“Always so sweet,” Jongin continues, yanking Yixing up by the hair in a surprisingly forceful movement. “But then you start dancing,” Jongin’s voice drops an octave lower, his gaze locked onto Yixing’s teary ones, his words mixing with Sehun’s low groans, “And you turn me on so damn much.” Yixing can only moan even louder at Jongin’s words, his entire body jolted up the mattress with Sehun’s every thrust.

“Sometimes I want to pin you on the stage floor,” Jongin hisses, “Strip you naked and fuck you right there, make you scream for me, make you ride me in front of everyone, let the whole world know how well you take cock.”

Sehun’s hand curls around Yixing’s neglected cock, rubbing over it harshly in time with his own thrusts. “Or maybe I’ll spread my legs for you,” Jongin croons, “Rub all over your crotch when we dance together, let you bend me over the edge of the stage, would you like that, Yixing hyung?”

Yixing lets out a strangled stream as he feels pressure building at the base of his cock, but it is cut off with Sehun’s hands tightening around it, denying him. He thrashes against Sehun’s hold, tries to fuck himself back on Sehun’s cock but Jongin tightens his grasp on Yixing’s hair, pinning him in place. “Jongin asked you a question,” Sehun intones, “Shouldn’t you answer him?”

“Yes, yes,” Yixing sobs out, “Hyung, oppa, please, yes-” His last words turn into a garbled moan as Sehun’s orgasm bursts within him, painting his walls with white. White fills his vision and his mouth falls open, heat overtaking his entire body in a rush and he collapses against the mattress, twitching slightly. Sehun lets his cock go, but no fluid comes out.

“Hyung, did you just come?” Jongin gulps, poking at Yixing’s deflating cock. “A dry one,” Sehun says reverently.

Yixing stares blearily at the wall. He has no energy to even lift a finger to respond. “I think we succeeded,” Sehun giggles hysterically. “Go to sleep, hyung,” Jongin says, smoothing a hand over Yixing’s hair, and he obediently closes his eyes.

//

Kyungsoo is the only one who doesn’t start off with touching him, at least not in the sexual manner. Kyungsoo isn’t fond of casual sex, period. So Yixing is surprised when Kyungsoo stops him after his shower, steering him away from Zitao who’s pestering Baekhyun to bathe with him again. Only a towel protects Yixing’s modesty, but it isn’t like he has any to preserve from the members.

“Where are we going?” Yixing asks, but Kyungsoo simply gives him a genuine smile and tugs him to the living room. It’s surprisingly empty, and Kyungsoo pulls the towel away. Almost instinctively Yixing goes to cover his junk, but Kyungsoo pulls his hands away with a slight shake. 

He cradles Yixing’s face in his hands, and even though Yixing is slightly taller, he feels so small in front of Kyungsoo, like an insipid child. Kyungsoo calls him princess, and the word itself is enough to make Yixing beet red.

He makes Yixing kneel in the center of the room, bare skin digging into the plush carpet comfortably. “Close your eyes,” Kyungsoo says, and smooth silk settle over Yixing’s eyes. Yixing’s breath catches slightly as Kyungsoo tightens the blindfold behind his head. He can make brief shapes behind the blindfold, but he shuts his eyes and patiently awaits Kyungsoo.

He flinches slightly when leather touches his wrists, and immediately Kyungsoo is crouching down beside him. “I borrowed some things from Luhan hyung,” he explains, “To help you relax.” 

More cuffs go around his ankles, and Yixing can feel leather brush along his skin like the caress of a lover. There must be something, a rope, connecting the ankle cuffs with the ones on his wrist, as Kyungsoo gently brings his hands to cross behind his back and tugs it. Yixing can almost see it, a black “X” that crosses behind his back and helps him kneel upright. It’s strange, as of now, Yixing doesn’t really understand the purpose of it.

Then hot breath fans against his neck and he flinches away instinctively with a terrified squawk, almost toppling over to the left. Kyungsoo apologizes amusedly and steadies him.

Strong knuckles press into the tense muscles of his shoulder, and the moan that is tipped out of Yixing’s throat travels through the entire dormitory. It’s heavenly, Kyungsoo’s massages. Strong and precise but never painful. His arms feel like they’ve been taken apart and put back together, and he barely registers it when Chanyeol’s large and guitar-calloused hands start wrapping silk rope around him, draping over his body in loops. Kyungsoo’s murmured instructions sound far away, raindrops dripping on the window with a satisfying quietness.

The soft fabric brushes against his bare skin, wrapping around the vulnerable parts of the ankle and wrist, putting pressure on the taut muscles.

Yixing wouldn’t be able to recall the exact design when asked later. All he feels is the silk rope pulling at his tendons and flesh, settling over him like a lizard’s second skin, malleable yet rigid. Kyungsoo’s words descend around him like music, a _pianissimo_ and _adagio_ that lulls him to sleep amongst the clouds, floating along the current of time.

The members pass by, as Yixing can hear their quiet murmurs of approval, and briefly Zitao cards his fingers through Yixing’s hair before Kyungsoo glares at him.

But Yixing knows Kyungsoo is proud, proud of the fact that he created the design on Yixing’s body, making him almost want to float away, dangerously close to subspace. And he likes making Kyungsoo proud, too. His eyes flutter close again.

He’s pliant and drained by the time Kyungsoo releases him. He blinks against the harsh light as Kyungsoo coaxes him into his clothes, guiding him to his own room. Luhan gives a faint noise in greeting, and Yixing groggily sinks into the mattress.

Almost instinctively his hand shoots out to grasp Kyungsoo before he can leave the room, dragging the other man down with him. He’s safe here, with Kyungsoo’s arms around him, swallowing him. He’s safe.

//

Yixing’s still recovering from Kyungsoo. He’s grateful for his brothers, but he’s also regretting ever asking them for help. They don’t raise their voices around him, not even Sehun, like they’re constantly skirting on eggshells. Or is he just paranoid?

Thursday sees the dorm almost empty. Luhan has dragged the other hyungs out for a football game, while Jongdae, Tao, Sehun, and Jongin has returned back to train. Yixing is a bit frustrated, to be literally incarcerated in home and unable to train. He does his stretches in the limited space of the room, jumping up and down to keep his fitness, tries to compose but he’s simply too restless for it, and he’s this close to breaking out through the window when a knock on the door stops him.

It’s his jailers, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo. Chanyeol had specifically requested to stay home, in order to uphold his end of the bargain to take care of Yixing. Yixing’s a bit scared, honestly. Chanyeol has always been the most unpredictable, and Yixing worried briefly why Chanyeol would want a day where no one else is in the dorm.

Kyungsoo feeds both of them and Chanyeol is loud, as usual. He gets Yixing to practice some Chinese with him for their impending appearance on a Chinese variety show, but Yixing doesn’t miss the sly exchanges between the two Koreans.

Chanyeol had ripped the mattresses off both his and Kyungsoo’s bed frame, making one giant bed on the floor in their room. The three of them play stupid games on it, cards and charades, making Yixing protest loudly everytime Chanyeol explained stuff using “the Korean rules”.

“Let’s play spin the bottle,” Chanyeol pipes up sometime in the afternoon. Kyungsoo sighs. “There’s literally three people here.”

“Or, we could skip the spinning part and go straight to the kissing part,” Chanyeol looks at Yixing expectantly, and he giggles in response. 

Chanyeol is the first to hook Yixing closer to him, and Yixing straddles the taller man’s lap as he kisses him thoroughly, enticing Chanyeol to a little dance.

Then Kyungsoo holds up a blindfold, making Yixing pause and push Chanyeol’s head away from his neck to focus.

“You guys don’t have to do this,” Yixing swallows heavily, “We can just have regular old sex.”

“Let us take care of you, Lay hyung,” Chanyeol says as he mouths at the edge of Yixing’s shirt, “And it’s never just sex; not with all of you.”

“If you don’t want it, we can act like nothing has happened,” Kyungsoo continues, “But entrust yourself to us, Yixing. We’ll make you feel good.”

“You let Jongdae and Junmyeon,” Chanyeol starts to whine, and his hot breath on the sensitive part of Yixing’s neck makes it even the more harder to formulate proper thoughts as to how this wasn’t a good idea.

Instead he lets Kyungsoo tie the silk around his eyes and lets them guide him on to his back, and he helps them take off his clothes slowly before the familiar sensation of lube is pressed into his bare skin.

Yixing thinks the blindfold is moot, because he can immediately recognize Chanyeol’s large digits, all too familiar from watching them skim over the strings of a guitar and piano, from feeling them wrap around his flesh.

The first finger is absolutely fine, but with the amount of lube Chanyeol had used the liquid flows out of Yixing’s ass and cover his entire entrance and thighs, putting Yixing on full display.

The second and third finger sinks in at once, too quickly, and Yixing hisses. Chanyeol is quick to comfort, muttering soft phrases of “it’s okay” and “sorry” repeatedly, but he sounds breathless, overwhelmed.

Then the sensation of an extra finger touches Yixing’s tailbone and he squeaks out in alarm, voicing his concerns out loud. In an instant Kyungsoo has undone his blindfold as Yixing trembles in place.

A crestfallen Chanyeol enters his line of sight. “I just wanted to make you feel good, Yixing hyung,” Chanyeol mumbles, and Yixing immediately feels guilty, leaning forward to cup Chanyeol’s face in his hands and telling him it’s okay, it’s not his fault. He was just surprised. He trusts Chanyeol, will always trust him.

This time Kyungsoo keeps the blindfold off as Chanyeol resumes spreading his hole open, three fingers, then Chanyeol holds Yixing’s gaze as he thrusts in his pinky finger. 

Yixing shudders. Chanyeol’s fingers are so very _large_ , and he can feel the meat of his palm just outside, waiting for his go ahead, and Chanyeol is trembling too, holding himself back for his Yixing hyung, so he nods shakily and the four fingers start to spread.

Yixing’s gasps rapidly as his hole is spread wider than it ever has before, the rim fluttering weakly against four fingers, struggling to close but instead is held open on full display.

“I’m going to put my thumb in now,” Chanyeol gulps, and Kyungsoo leans forward to wipe away beads of sweat on both Chanyeol and Yixing’s faces. The room is so very hot.

Yixing moans out loud when he feels all five fingers pushing in, and it’s ok for a while until he can feel the bone of Chanyeol’s thumb seeking permission, Chanyeol’s knuckles poised to enter him.

He nods timidly, and soon it seems that the bone just keeps on expanding and expanding and expanding, making Yixing’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he clings to Kyungsoo’s arms for dear life, until with an audible pop, Chanyeol stills.

The rim of his entrance flutters weakly against his wrist, and Yixing has never felt so _full_. Whimpers escape him in rapid puffs of air, and he is sure his eyes are glazed all over as he stares at the ceiling. Chanyeol flexes his fingers slightly, and Yixing lets out a weak scream.

Kyungsoo barks a low command for Chanyeol to stop, but Yixing gives him a soft smile through his panting. He can feel the flesh clinging to Chanyeol’s hand, sucking him in, trapping him there. He nods to Chanyeol and the younger man gulps nervously. His fingers begins to spread, and for a split second Yixing cannot breathe.

Just exactly how _long_ are Chanyeol’s fingers?

Yixing whines and shakes against Kyungsoo’s arm as Chanyeol begins to fuck him devotedly, knuckles brushing against his sensitive walls, filthy sounds spread around the room as Chanyeol and Yixing pant in unison.

Just like the other day Kyungsoo is relaying commands to Chanyeol, telling him what would make Yixing moan, what would make him shake and keen while Chanyeol soaks it all up with a look of careful concentration.

And Yixing does all of the above, legs wrapped around Chanyeol’s waist, tears welling at the edge of his eyes, shaking and moaning like a wanton whore as Chanyeol’s fingers play against his prostate, as he thrusts in and out of Yixing with his entire fist, thicker than any cock will be.

“You’re taking this so well, darling,” Kyungsoo is saying, “You’re so beautiful like this.” Yixing begs to differ, but he’s too preoccupied being fucked out that his mouth can’t even close, only able to blink tears out of his eyes as Kyungsoo praises him.

He comes just like this, hanging off Chanyeol’s wrist, the walls contracting so hard that he fears Chanyeol’s hand might break, white waves of pleasure coursing through his body as he flops on the mattress with his head pillowed on Kyungsoo’s thighs.

There’s a mess of tears and saliva over the younger man’s flesh and the bedsheets as Yixing’s entire body twitch with the intensity of the orgasm, caught in its aftershocks as Chanyeol gingerly withdraws his hand. The widened girth of his bones grate on Yixing’s sensitive nerves, but all he can do is pant as he rides out the last of the pleasure.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo says fondly, so Yixing lifts his head wearily to see a white stain in front of Chanyeol’s boxers. Chanyeol is blushing heavily, but he is also grinning from ear to ear, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. “I made you feel good, didn’t I?” He pants like a puppy asking for approval, so Yixing smiles up at him and gently pats the bed next to him. 

In a flash Chanyeol has curled up next to him, spooning Yixing to his own fiery warmth, long limbs encasing Yixing’s own. Kyungsoo kisses Chanyeol languidly, before drawing the blankets over both of them. Yixing is fast asleep before he leaves the room.

//

Baekhyun comes in the afternoon after a surprisingly quiet day. Luhan left the dormitory fairly quickly in the morning, so Yixing settles himself down on the couch to watch a movie with the other Chinese members, with Junmyeon explaining the parts they didn’t understand. 

Then Baekhyun saunters in, idly playing with a black collar in his hands. “Where do you guys even get all these things from?” Yixing asks as Baekhyun plants himself next to him. 

“Are you complaining?” Zitao pipes back. Yixing flushes but his complaint is cut off by the feeling of cold leather resting against the sensitive part of his neck. 

He pulls at it questioningly and looks up to Baekhyun, ready to ask where he was going with this when the younger man shushes him and holds up a purple ball gag.

“No talking,” Baekhyun teases, “My little bunny doesn’t have to worry about anything, okay?” Yixing hesitates, and it must be clear in his expression because Baekhyun’s features soften even further. “You tap me twice and I’ll stop, okay?” He says, “Let me take care of you.”

Yixing nods deferentially, opening his mouth to let Baekhyun fit the ball gag snugly in place. The taste of plastic is dim and muted, but he enjoys the way Baekhyun’s pupils dilate.

Junmyeon calls him a good boy and Zitao snuggles even closer, his hair tickling Yixing’s chin slightly. 

He feels... Owned, this way. Like his body isn’t really his own. 

By the time the movie is over his jaws are aching, but Baekhyun draws soothing motions with his finger over Yixing’s pale skin. He’s still dressed, but he feels naked and desperate the longer he sits there, fidgeting so much that Zitao abandons him for a surprisingly silent Yifan, and as credits roll in, he’s tearily tugging at Baekhyun’s sleeve, wordlessly begging Baekhyun to do something, _anything_.

The younger man hooks a finger in Yixing’s collar and tugs him into a bedroom, putting him on all fours on someone’s mattress.

“I should’ve listened to Jongdae and got you matching ears and plugs,” Baekhyun gasps out behind him like a drowning man, “You’re absolutely perfect.” Reverential hands run down his waist, skimming the curve of his back through the thin shirt, making Yixing keen against the ball gag. 

Saliva rolls down the plastic and along his chin, before splashing against the sheets. Yixing flushes red, and Baekhyun leans over him, laughing quietly against the collar. 

“Lay hyung you’re so messy,” Baekhyun breathes out, “But it’s okay, because bunnies are allowed to be messy.”

Baekhyun pulls the shirt off Yixing, followed quickly by his pants and boxers, but Baekhyun is still fully clothed as he crawls to be in front of Yixing and presses his mouth against Yixing’s held-open lips, tongue invading in around the plastic, licking into Yixing’s mouth messily. Their saliva runs down Yixing’s chin and makes his toes curl up, but his broken plea comes out as a garbled whine through the intrusion in his mouth.

“Patience, bunny,” Baekhyun breathes out, and a cold finger touches his entrance. Yixing tries to complain, he _doesn’t need it_ , but all he can do is growl, and Baekhyun laughs at him again, and a devious glint enters the younger’s eyes as he suddenly tugs at the collar, the abrupt move causing Yixing to sprawl on the mattress, ass still up in the air but his arms collapsed.

“Much better,” Baekhyun breathes out, “I want to choke you on my cock, but the ball gag is too good to waste.”

The crude vulgarity of the normally adorable Baekhyun makes Yixing shiver, but as soon as he tries to lift his upper body off the bed, Baekhyun tugs him down with the collar again, the pressure of the collar against the back of his neck reminiscent of Junmyeon’s fingers, but in a way much more harsh and uncontrolled. Yixing can’t decide which one he likes more, and the mere thought of it makes him flush.

“Did my little bunny just try to move?” Baekhyun’s question is high-pitched and distant as he circles around Yixing to place his palms on the round globes of Yixing’s ass, “I think he needs a lesson.”

The first smack makes Yixing jump and he whines against the offending object in his mouth, his cries stoppered against his throat as Baekhyun’s palm rains down again and again and again, and all he can do is sprawl against the mattress and hold his torso up for Baekhyun’s scrutinization, the flesh red and throbbing.

“Hold your tail up for me, will you?” Baekhyun breathes, and Yixing sobs weakly as he tilts his lower body up even further. Baekhyun’s hands knead at his ass appreciatively, before sliding down to caress his trembling thighs.

“Your legs are really beautiful, Yixing hyung,” Baekhyun says breathily, “I could look at them all day.” He licks a wet stripe around the inner thighs as Yixing suppresses a whimper, burying his face in the bedsheets. He can taste the saltiness of his own tears from where it rolls down his cheeks into his mouth, opened wide by the ball gag.

A dry finger scrapes his bare walls and he keens loudly, toes curling in pain pleasure. Encouraged by the sounds Yixing are making, Baekhyun peppers his spine with kisses as he adds in two fingers at once. More drool wets the pillow as Yixing muffles his cries into the cotton, Baekhyun clearly deriving torturous pleasure as he spreads Yixing’s hole apart. “How many cocks have you had, Yixing hyung?”

The smell of plastic pervades Yixing’s mind, so he doesn’t even realize it when Baekhyun’s fingers leave him, but he does press back frantically as he feels the mushroomed head of Baekhyun’s cock run teasing circles around the rim of his entrance, the cool precum a burning sensation against the heated, reddened flesh.

He wants to beg, but he _can’t_ , because he’s Baekhyun’s pet right now and pets don’t _speak_ , they just stay there and be loved no matter what they do because you love them regardless. Pets can do _whatever_ they want and they’d always be forgiven, always be treated with care, always loved.

But he wants it _so bad_ , he can be a good boy, he can be Baekhyun’s good boy. So he presses his chest even flatter against the bed as he reaches his hands back to spread his ass cheeks open, simply _present_ to Baekhyun in a most animalistic manner, and he moans quietly when Baekhyun’s breath catches.

Then Baekhyun’s entire bodyweight drapes on him as he thrusts in, short, hard jabs that drag molten lava along Yixing’s walls with the pure friction between them, Yixing’s screams bouncing out from the gag in his mouth, and Baekhyun breathes hotly against his right cheek.

“My perfect little bunny, taking my cock so well,” Baekhyun murmurs huskily as Yixing’s hands fall from his behind, too overstimulated to maintain that position and instead claw at the sheets desperately. 

“I’m going to pump your belly full of cum,” Baekhyun hisses, and Yixing can feel the younger man’s hands clenching his hips tightly, dictating his movements. “Make you carry my babies,” Baekhyun continues, “And after that, I’ll pass you to all of the other members, and your belly will be so plump with our children.”

And Yixing can imagine that, himself swollen with child and semen, resting on all fours with his belly swaying as Baekhyun fucks into him, Jongin, Sehun, Luhan, until cum overflows and splashes against his thighs.

The mental image is enough for him to spurt without even noticing, his orgasm taking both Baekhyun and himself by surprise and he lies on the mattress twitching in embarrassment.

“Lay hyung,” Baekhyun is laughing at him now, leaving Yixing’s hole empty and twitching as Baekhyun rolls around giggling uncontrollably.

Yixing swats Baekhyun on the shoulder in annoyance, making muted noises around the ball in his mouth, but Baekhyun pays him no heed.

“You’re so adorable,” Baekhyun finally says, kneeling on the mattress next to Yixing’s prone form, his hands placed on Yixing’s waist the same way one hugs a big dog.

Yixing retches in huge breaths as Baekhyun undoes the strap of the ball gag, letting it fall onto the pillow in front of him, bathed in saliva.

Baekhyun tussles his hair and eases his thighs, giving Yixing the go ahead to lie on his front fully and give his kneecaps some rest.

Baekhyun picks up the ball gag and licks it lewdly, but he puts it down on the bedside table. “Go to sleep, my little bunny,” He says affectionately, but Yixing gestures at Baekhyun’s still erect and swollen cock. He doesn’t feel like using his words right now.

“I’ll take care of it myself,” Baekhyun soothes, “Don’t think about it.” Yixing rolls his eyes and shuffles onto all fours again, hot breath fanning against Baekhyun’s erection. It’s out of the question that he will let his little brother leave without being properly satisfied; out of the question that he can find it in him to be so inconsiderate.

He touches the head of Baekhyun’s cock with the tip of his tongue lightly, and he can feel a smooth pressure against his hair, but Baekhyun doesn’t force him, he doesn’t dare move as Yixing gives him his full attention, giving the organ small, kittenish licks, precum staining his full lips.

He hums around Baekhyun’s cock, putting his hands on the younger’s hips to steady himself as he begins to take more and more of Baekhyun’s length in his mouth, enveloping it in wet heat.

Baekhyun’s fingers dig into Yixing’s scalp, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t dare move, just lets Yixing eat him up like a sweet treat, licking up all of his precum, twirling his tongue around Baekhyun’s cock with pressure, expertly humming around the organ as Baekhyun trembles in place.

A groan escapes the younger boy and his fingers tighten as Yixing takes as much of Baekhyun’s cock as he can, lips brushing against his balls, tongue licking wet stripes all around the organ.

“Yixing hyung, please,” Baekhyun chokes out tearily, “Hyung, hyung, please.” Baekhyun doesn’t act in his words from earlier, but entrusts himself into Yixing’s hands, both metaphorically and literally.

Yixing’s tongue tugs lightly on Baekhyun’s balls as his hands slide up and down the younger boy’s shaft, and he only has Baekhyun’s moan as warning as cum splashes across his flushed face.

Moaning appreciatively, Yixing darts out his tongue to lap up the beading fluid on the tip of Baekhyun’s cock, but the overstimulation makes Baekhyun hiss and jerk Yixing backward with the collar around his neck. “Naughty pet,” Baekhyun rasps out, half-dazed, “Now you’ve made yourself dirty.”

Heat rises up involuntarily at Baekhyun’s chastisement, so Yixing obediently collects all the cum on his face with his fingers and suck them in, eyes demure and casted low as Baekhyun towers over him. His kneecaps are aching from kneeling on all fours, but it’s the good kind of ache, especially when Baekhyun tilts his head up by cupping his face with a hand and wipes away the semen Yixing had missed, feeding them back to him.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Baekhyun murmurs, “We love you regardless.” Yixing nuzzles against Baekhyun’s palm. He doesn’t want to use his words, not yet. It’s pure instinct that he drops onto all fours as soon as Baekhyun gets him off the bed, and he crawls his way to the bathroom for Baekhyun to wipe him clean. Baekhyun's breathing quickens, but Yixing doesn’t feel sexual arousal when he whines instead of speak, when he crawls back onto his bed on all fours and curl up into a ball like an actual bunny does.

Baekhyun slumps down next to him and reaches to unbuckle the collar, but Yixing hisses and swats his hands away. “You want to keep it on?” Baekhyun asks. Yixing nuzzles against Baekhyun’s neck, giving it kittenish licks, and Baekhyun pets him to sleep.

In the middle of the night he is awoken by Junmyeon taking his collar off, and Yixing growls at the emptiness around his neck. “It’ll hurt tomorrow,” Junmyeon soothes, “I’ll leave it in your bedside drawer, so everytime you need it, just put it on, okay?”

He whines a bit before relenting, too sleepy to actually protest, and Junmyeon ruffles his hair before leaving the room. Baekhyun is sound asleep next to him, and Yixing listens to his breathing before he is lulled into dreams of his own.

//

Baekhyun is the whiny one when they wake up in the morning, clinging to Yixing before Chanyeol gets fed up and drags Baekhyun away, before wrapping his own limbs around Yixing like an octopus and almost making him fall over.

Baekhyun must have bragged really loud when Yixing was taking his morning shower, because as the day passes, all of the other members are teasing him about the collar, making him flush and hide behind Yifan who only pets him in the head and calls him a good boy.

He steps on Yifan’s new shoes in return.

He’s strumming out an errant melody on his guitar when Zitao flounces in, the youngest Chinese hooking his long arms around Yixing’s neck and dragging him out of the room.

“Now,” Zitao whines excitedly, bouncing on his heels, “It has to be now, gege. Minseok ge is already waiting!” Yixing wonders aloud what Minseok has anything to do with this, but the younger man’s grip is strong and he is dragged to the kitchen. 

There is a white stain on the brown wood counter, and Yixing gulps loudly. “You did this, right?” Minseok smiles knowingly, “Did you know how nervous Sehun was when he saw it?”

Zitao’s slender digits wrap around his waist and crawl under his shirt, leaving heated trails all over his stomach and chest as Zitao embraces him from behind. “Let’s add on to it, yeah?” The younger purrs eagerly, while Minseok cups Yixing’s jaw with a hand to kiss him, tongue leisure licking into the warm cavern, making Yixing’s head spin round and round and round.

Yixing breaks away from the kiss, mewling breathlessly as Zitao’s hands fall into the loose elastic of his pants, running taunting circles over his crotch as his hot breath fans against the side of his face.

“I wonder how many times we can make you come,” Minseok says, “Just from our fingers and tongues alone.”

He traps Yixing against Zitao again with a overwhelming kiss, an unrelenting pressure even as saliva rolled down from between them.

Below, Zitao leaves Yixing clothed, but his hands jerk Yixing off in a tight and rapid grip, his own erection pressed tightly into the cleft of Yixing’s ass, a constant reminder of the younger’s presence.

Yixing comes like this, his whole body sagging against Zitao, his jaw lax and open from Minseok’s invasion. He can only blink when Minseok takes Zitao’s stained fingers and lick them clean.

But Zitao hasn’t stopped, his hand still teasing Yixing’s cock, and he can feel the familiar rush of arousal again. Wordlessly, the two of them manhandle him onto the counter, so that they can take his pants and boxers off completely.

“Relax, Yixing ge,” Zitao says in Chinese, a smirk on his face, “We’ll make you feel good.” Then his face disappears from between Yixing’s legs, and a moan is ripped out of him as something wet circles the area between his cock and entrance.

“Zitao-ah,” His breathing quickens and he moans desperately, “It’s dirty, don’t do that!”

Faintly he can hear Minseok asking, “What did he say?” But it is quickly drowned by the blood rushing through his ears as the impossibly hot and wet appendage presses insistently against the rim, laying light kisses over the trembling flesh.

But Yixing is selfish, so he can’t bring himself to get up and push Zitao away, instead just lie there and quiver under Minseok’s scrutiny and Zitao’s earnest ministrations as he mutters phrases to make Zitao go away, to make Minseok stop Zitao, but his erect cock tells both of them otherwise.

Yixing’s toes curl up with pleasure as Zitao’s tongue breaches his entrance, and the younger begins to fuck him with fervour, spreading him apart. “Let him do his work, hmm?” Minseok asks, taking Yixing’s rigid arms and looping them over his own neck, “Zitao is a good boy, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Tao-ah, yes,” Yixing moans out, his legs twitching as Zitao’s tongue does a vicious swipe inside him. Minseok’s hand begins to touch his cock again, smearing the come from the first time all over the organ and over his balls.

“Minseok-hyung, slower, please,” Yixing begs at the overstimulation, his hands raking down Minseok’s back, trying to get an anchor as his body threatens to arch off the counter with the way Zitao is playing him like a fine instrument.

“Why?” Minseok asks rhetorically, “I like seeing you like this.” 

“It’s too much, Minseok-hyung, please,” Yixing gasps out like a drowning man, and Minseok tuts at him. “You’re still talking,” He says, “We must be not doing enough.” His grip tightens just as Zitao lifts Yixing’s legs up by the thighs onto his own shoulders, his tongue reaching deeper inside him then ever before.

Minseok squeezes his second orgasm out of his cock, soothing down his hair as Yixing twitches on the counter in the aftershocks of intense ecstasy. Zitao stands up with a smug look on his face, his lips glistening. “Come on,” Minseok said, “We’re not done with you yet.”

Yixing blinks away the sweat in his eyes, his flaccid cock responding once again to Minseok’s palm. “It’s too much, Minseok-hyung,” He begs again, “Hyung, hyung, hyung-” In vain he can already feel blood rushing downwards as Zitao walks around the counter to kiss him. Yixing can taste a musky scent on the younger’s lips and he shivers at the thought of it.

But Minseok is far from giving up as he slides in between Yixing’s still quivering legs, inserting a finger into the already loose entrance. Zitao, on the other hand, wrenches his lips away from Yixing’s motionless ones, already too incoherent and tired to follow the younger’s movements, and instead Zitao trails his lips down Yixing’s collarbones and onto his nipples, teasing them with his tongue, rolling them into hard nubs and sucking on them, and all Yixing can do is breathe through his nose as his mouth is held agape by an invisible force, hands pressing Zitao’s head to his chest.

Physically he’s already strung out from the two orgasms, barely any energy left inside him to come, and now he’s once again teetering on the brink of one as Minseok spreads him apart with three fingers, Yixing’s nipples raw and on fire from Zitao’s ministrations.

He’s torn between pushing them away and pulling them closer.

“Stop,” He gasps out in Chinese, “Please.”

“Do you really want that, Xing-ge?” Zitao teases. Yixing meets his smoldering gaze and becomes entirely boneless, just as Minseok replaces his fingers with his cock. His hyung purposefully misses his prostate, and Zitao backs up and stops torturing Yixing, so all Yixing can feel is his walls hammered by Minseok’s cock, but release escapes him over and over again.

Minseok lifts his thighs up to fuck him deeper, but both Minseok and Zitao refuses Yixing’s pleas to touch him, even after Minseok settles inside him with a low grunt, before moving off to let Zitao take his place. 

Zitao is even worse that Minseok in this regard, his motions slow and drawn-out, but every thrust jolting Yixing up the counter until his back is aching. 

Yixing can’t really remember how many times they took turns fucking him, to be quite honest, and he has lost track of how many times he has come on their cocks alone. Minseok and Zitao’s semen mix together and spill out of his entrance, and there’s a pleasant ache rushing through his entire body. Yixing’s cock is still hard and erect, but he no longer has the urge to release, to seek more pleasure, instead to just lie there as Zitao and Minseok looks at him like hungry wolves.

Blearily he returns their affectionate gaze as Minseok finally touches his erection, and the organ gives out a few weak spurts of semen before settling down completely.

Jongin pokes his head into the doorway with sleep-mussed hair. “Is the kitchen ready? I’m hungry.”

Between the three of them, they get an entirely pliant Yixing into the bathroom. He falls asleep some point in between Jongin and Zitao squabbling over the bodywash.

//

It takes a few days for Yixing to even dare step foot in the kitchen again, only because Jongdae was begging for him to cook something. Yixing doesn’t dare be alone with any of them anymore, not with his ass still burning up whenever he tries to sit and the ache on his back, and his brother thankfully also leave him alone.

Well, not entirely alone, with the way they suffocate him with pampering. Sehun and Jongin always pops in with bubble tea, while Kyungsoo cooks all of Yixing’s favourite foods. Jongdae and Baekhyun squabble over who gets to sing his demos, while Chanyeol just raps along in the corner. Zitao tries to get Yixing to bathe with him, but... just no. Minseok and Luhan still leer at him every now and then (Yixing swears they conspired behind his back) but they also buy his snacks for him, and Yixing doesn’t complain at free food. Junmyeon always makes sure he doesn’t have to fight with Yifan over television rights (Yifan is petty like that), not that Yifan is trying too hard to stop Yixing from changing away from the Kardashians.

It’s the second to last night of their break, and the room is way too hot. Yixing is already down to his boxers with the sheets kicked onto the floor, but Luhan is wrapped snugly in his blankets so he can’t hit the AC. Sighing loudly to himself, he picks up his blanket and sheets and pads out of the room quietly.

At night, the living room loses none of its metaphorical warmth. Yixing doesn’t worry about monsters or thieves, ghosts or anything macabre. He can barely see anything, but it’s enough to find the coolest spot on the carpet and build his fort on it.

He settles down with a happy sigh, blankets cocooning him. 

A few hours later he’s woken up by Yifan. It’s still completely dark, so Yixing merely holds up his blanket for Yifan to slide into as the bigger man adjusts his own pillow to lie side by side with Yixing. Yifan has always had that instinct, that premonition of the times Yixing leaves his room for the living room, even back in China. Yifan’s arms drape across his waist nicely and Yixing snuggles into his embrace.

When they wake up again, morning light is already filtering in from behind the blinds. Yifan tugs Yixing up into the bathroom, and once their morning breath has disappeared, presses him lightly against the door and kisses him.

Yixing returns it enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around Yifan’s neck and eventually leaping up and cling to him like a koala bear, forcing Yifan to return to the living room to pack away his sheets.

Yifan deposits him on the carpet, and between folding up the blankets, he says, “Let me take care of you, Yixing.”

Yixing looks up, startled. The two of them don’t have sex. What they have are unhurried kisses and gentle caresses, heavy petting and sometimes frenzied rutting. But never sex, the way Yixing does with the other members, the way Yifan does with the other members.

Yifan is his oldest friend amongst the members, ever since Yixing crashed into the giant all those years ago in the beginning of his training. He was 17 then, innocent and naive, filled with dreams and passion to his music. He still is, to some extent.

“You don’t have to do this,” Yixing frets, “I don’t want things to change between us.” He has a feeling it already has, between all of them. 

Yifan smiles then, gummy and bright, and Yixing is immediately put at ease. It isn’t just because Yifan has known him the longest, but also because he’s the _duizhang_ and knows what's best for the members. Their love for each other is unconditional.

They undress each other with gentle caution, Yifan running his large hands over the flat planes of Yixing’s stomach, admonishing him to stop eating so many snacks and eat proper meals, while Yixing rebukes for Yifan to actually sleep early. It’s domestic banter that is routine to them and they move up from the carpet to the couch.

He thinks Yifan must have talked with the others, for Junmyeon walks in and merely plops down on the loveseat without batting an eyelash at both of their naked states. The Korean is the only one in the living room, turning pages of a comic, and soon he becomes background static as Yifan kisses Yixing thoroughly, tongue exploring the warm cavern of his mouth meticulously. It’s slightly overwhelming, the heat of Yifan’s palm on his hip, legs entangled with each other. Yixing closes his eyes and submits into the kiss. It’s nice to lose control, he muses, to not have to think about anything.

They don’t speak, but rely on years of body language. Speaking would destroy the peaceful atmosphere that has settled over them like a second skin, and Yixing loathes to chase it away. Yifan makes him turn around until he’s completely lying on the couch, Yifan straddling his legs with his cock barely brushing Yixing’s ass. 

Yifan slips a pillow under Yixing’s head and he crosses his arms over it, fidgeting slightly to find a comfortable position. 

Yifan stretches him unhurriedly. Yixing had been filled enough the past week to accommodate all three fingers immediately in a satisfying squelch, lube trickling down onto Yifan’s hand as he slowly scissors Yixing apart. Vaguely Yixing wonders who’s turn is it to clean the couch.

The slide in makes him moan quietly as he is finally filled to the brim, this position enabling him to feel the thickness of Yifan’s manhood, every ridge and indent of the throbbing heat.

Yifan’s grip is loose but firm. Yixing could break free if he wanted to, but that’s not the point. Yixing’s cock is trapped between his own body and the sheets as Yifan holds him down, his larger frame enveloping Yixing underneath him. The way Yifan thrusts into him is almost lazy, long, slow, languid strokes that drag pleasantly against his inner walls. There’s no urgency there, no pressing need to come, to please or to pleasure.

And that’s the point of the past few days, really. It’s not about sex, not about bodily connection. It’s Yixing putting himself into his brothers’ hands and letting them in. It’s Yixing not having to worry about anything and let others dictate his life, just for a few moments. He doesn’t have to be the hyung here, doesn’t have to make any decisions, doesn’t have to feel pressured to be mature, to be calm.

Yixing could almost go to sleep. And he thinks he must have, for a while later it is Baekhyun’s slender finger that lifts his chin up, and he looks up blearily. Yifan is still fucking him, that constant pressure grounding his boneless form. He doesn’t want to move. 

The members are wandering around, and Baekhyun leaves him in favour of turning on the television, but not before quirking his lips and calling him “little bunny”. They settle around him like it’s like another regular day, that Yifan isn't half-crouching, half-kneeling over a prone and very naked Yixing. Minseok pets his hair gently and reaches over him for the remote control.

When he stretches a hand over to help Minseok, however, Yifan’s weight shifts and pins him down like a trapped animal, causing Yixing’s fingers to flex and drop back onto the couch.

From here he can see that everyone’s half-hard, and he stirs slightly but Yifan runs a soothing hand down his back. “Do you want it?” He asks, “They can just take care of themselves.”

“Like that was ever an option,” Yixing snorts, and Yifan laughs before pulling out. The sudden emptiness makes Yixing clench as he looks around, lost. Then Jongdae smirks at him and crooks a finger, and he is off the couch and across the room before long, mouthing at Jongdae’s bulge through his garments while palming Junmyeon’s erection.

A while passes and Yixing has Jongdae’s cock in his mouth, but he’s still painfully empty. He throws a glance backwards and everyone has already shed their clothes, cocks curved and swollen with arousal, but none of them move. 

They’re waiting for him, Yixing realizes. Right now, in this moment, he holds all the power in the room. “Luhan,” He calls breathlessly, tilting his ass upwards, and in a flash the man in question is sliding his cock inside him, relentlessly invading, making Yixing drop to his elbows, Jongdae’s cock leaving a trail of precum against his cheek.

Then Kyungsoo is kneeling in front of him, wiping it away as he says, “Just tell us what you want, princess.”

He just wants all of them to be happy.

So he asks for the collar, and he can feel Luhan stutter. “I”ve unlocked a monster,” Baekhyun giggles.

They purposely miss his prostate, draws out before he can cum and instead paint his flesh and collar with white, and eventually Luhan has to run into his room to bring out the cock ring lest Yixing tires too quickly. He chooses every one of them like a wanton beast, riding Sehun until he is sobbing for mercy, legs wrapped tightly around Zitao as Zitao takes him on the cushioned floor, bends over for Chanyeol as he sucks Kyungsoo off, makes Yifan cum all over his face, lets Junmyeon and Jongdae take turns fucking him against the wall. Luhan and Minseok fuck his mouth together, making his jaws ache as Baekhyun fucks his thighs, 

He lets them use him, uses them all as he spurts untouched in Jongin’s arms.

Lying on the couch, he can hear the soft sounds of them getting off around him, Luhan and Sehun’s dirty talk, Baekhyun and Chanyeol wrecking Jongdae to pieces. Jongin mouths at Yixing’s collarbone loosely with Junmyeon’s hands on his cock. He can hear Zitao’s high-pitched whines from across the room, presumably caused by Kyungsoo and Yifan. Minseok kisses him, then, and Yixing parts his lips for his oldest hyung. “Go to sleep, Xing,” Luhan murmurs in Chinese, “We’ll all be here when you wake up.”


End file.
